Breaking Free
by smacky30
Summary: Learning to love is all about letting go and breaking free. Emily learns to do just that.


Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Written for the Spring Smut-a-thon at cmrossiprentiss on LJ. Many, many thanks to mingsmommy and losingntrnslatn for all their help and the beta work. They both rock.

"It's been a long week." Rossi groans as he sinks back on the couch and takes a sip of wine.

Shaking her head, Emily snorts out a laugh. "And _you_ are the King of Understatement."

"What does that make you?" he grins at her.

"Exhausted." Turning, she settles her feet in his lap. "Why can't these people hunt during normal hours?"

He knows the question is rhetorical but shrugs anyway. "The prey is more vulnerable at night."

"Yeah, I know." Emily sighs and a smile touches her lips when he begins massaging her foot with one hand. Relaxing into the moment, she concentrates on the feel of his fingertips pressing into the bottom of her foot. "I'll give you about a week to stop doing that," she wiggles her foot against his hand and moans when his thumb begins to work the ball of her foot.

"You know what I don't understand?" Emily muses as his hand slides up to cover the delicate bones of her ankle. "Stuffing the petunias in their mouths, dirt and roots and all."

He rubs his finger over her skin, letting the knob of her bone slip under the pad of his thumb. "Reid mentioned something about the flower meaning anger or resentment."

"Oh," she frowns, thinking back. "Where was I?"

"Starbucks?" He sets his glass on the end table and trails his fingers up the inside of her calf. "You do have a serious coffee obsession."

She bumps his thigh with her other foot. "Hey, I didn't hear you complaining when I was putting that venti double shot in your hands."

"Caught me." He lets his eyes run up the length of her bare legs to where they disappear into her very short shorts. "Have I mentioned how much I like summer?" Grinning at her bark of laugher, he slides a hand up her calf, his fingers brushing against the back of her knee and the first frisson of lust tightens her stomach. When she shifts her hips and makes a soft humming noise, he smiles. "You like that?"

"You know I do." Emily sighs and relaxes, sinking into the cushions. The soft chenille cushions surround her and Dave's hands are trailing over her legs and she realizes just how comfortable she is here with him. As the realization hits her, she chuffs out a nervous laugh. "Feels weird to say that."

Raising her leg, he places a kiss to the inside of her ankle, his beard prickly soft against her skin, sending goose bumps racing up her calf. "To say what?"

Tugging her foot from his grasp, she sits up and tucks her legs in beside her. "I've never…um…never been with anybody long enough for them to learn what I like."

"Ah." He picks up his glass and takes a swallow. Watching her for a minute, he smiles. "Does that scare you? Or did you think it would scare me?"

"Dammit, Rossi," she runs a hand through her hair. "Don't pull that profiler crap on me."

"Sorry." His grin says he's not sorry at all. "So, I guess I shouldn't talk about why you're sitting way down there, curled in on yourself?"

Sipping from her glass, she nails him with a look that might have quelled a lesser man. "I…it doesn't _scare_ me."

"Then what?" He leans over and captures her foot, tugging it back into his lap. Stroking over her arch, he asks, "You do think it scares me?" With a sigh, he brings her foot up and places a kiss on the ball, just below her big toe. "Let me clear this up. Nothing about you scares me." His lips move to her arch. "Nothing."

She can't stop the soft moan that escapes. Hell, she doesn't even try. "You've done this before, though. At least three times."

"Emily," he chides, earning him a raised eyebrow and a quick grin from her. "Every woman, every relationship is different." His hand strokes along her calf and he drags a fingertip around her knee cap. "Speaking from experience, _this_ is different in a very good way."

Tilting her head, she studies him. "Then let me just say, for the record, I lied before. I'm terrified."

His fingers still and he watches her for a moment. "Come here." He holds his hand out and waits on her to take it then tugs her toward him. "Let me hold you."

With a sigh, Emily sets her glass on the coffee table and shifts until she is snuggled in his lap, her butt between his thighs, his arms tight around her waist. "This feels good," she murmurs and grins when he hums in agreement.

Long minutes pass. The only sounds are the hiss of the air conditioner, the hum of the refrigerator in the other room and Dave's heartbeat strong and steady under her ear. His hand slips under the hem of her shirt and strokes lightly against the small of her back, his lips pressing against her hair.

"I don't know how to reassure you," he says, kissing her forehead, "How to make you understand where my head is."

Emily presses her nose to his throat, inhaling the scent of soap and warm male skin. "This is a good start."

With gentleness most people would never guess he possesses, Dave threads his fingers through her hair and tilts her face up to his. "Make love with me?"

Surprised, she simply nods, then sighs as his mouth covers hers. She expects heat; she gets soft and slow and sweet. He fits his lips to hers and tastes her, while his fingers tighten against her scalp and his other hand glides over her ribs until he is brushing the side of her breast. Then his head tilts and his tongue slips over her bottom lip, and soft and sweet slowly slides toward heat.

It's hard for her to wrap her head around sometimes, the way he makes her feel. Warm and safe, sexy and cherished, like she's beautiful, and special, and important. And while she's pretty sure she's never been in love before, she's even more sure that she is in love with Dave. So she opens her lips and kisses him like there's never going to be another chance. Her fingers, so used to those button down dress shirts, fumble for the hem of his t-shirt. Then she can feel his skin, warm and soft under her palm and her heart skips a beat.

"Emily?" He whispers her name against her lips, his beard scratching gently at her skin.

"Hmmmm?" Her breath catches as his mouth slides along her jaw.

Dave dips his head and runs his tongue along her neck. "Let's go to bed."

Shivering, lust burning hot through her veins, she presses a kiss to his temple. Disentangling herself, her body loose and liquid, she rises to her feet. Holding out a hand she draws him up and leads him through the house to the bedroom.

With the drapes drawn, the room is cool and dim. Light filters around the edges of the curtains and dust motes dance on the air. With a tug on her hand, Dave turns her around and pulls her into his chest.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he whispers against her ear, his breath tickling and arousing at the same time. "Do you know what you _mean_ to me?"

"Dave," she pulls back just enough to see his eyes, "you talk too much." Throwing his head back, he laughs and she reaches up to touch the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. "Shut up and kiss me."

Sobering, he cups her face in his hands, his palms a little rough against her skin. "You are amazing."

He kisses her then, his hands burrowing under the weight of her hair, tugging gently at the silken mass of it. In that moment, she realizes how much he likes touching her hair and how much she likes to feel his hands in it. Pressing closer, Emily slips her hands under his shirt and smiles against his mouth when he gives a soft moan.

Impatience fueling her motions, Emily pushes his shirt up until it is bunched around his chest. Taking a step back, she says, "Lift," and together they work the material over his head.

"Slow down." He takes her hands in his, bringing them to his lips.

Hoping he can't feel her shaking, she tugs his hands to the hem of her shirt and looks up at him. "I just need to feel you." She holds her arms up and grins at him. "We can slow down again after that."

"You say that every time," he grins and lifts the soft cotton tank top over her head. His eyes, already the color of mahogany, darken. "And then I see you naked and it's all over."

Blushing a little, she pushes her shorts and panties down and steps out of them. "It's not my fault you have no self-control."

"Emily," Dave unbuttons his shorts and lowers the zipper, his lips curling up in a smile, "Quit talking and get on the bed."

She sits on the edge of the mattress. Never taking her eyes off him, she slides across the bed, lying on her side watching him. When his shorts drop to the floor, she can feel her whole body tense in anticipation. Then he hooks his fingers in the top of his boxers and slips them down over his hips and her tongue darts out to wet her suddenly dry lips.

"You're beautiful," she blurts, and then bites her lip, mentally kicking herself for the slip. Shocked eyes meet hers and she almost laughs. After all, it isn't often that she surprises him. "I think you're beautiful."

The mattress dips under his weight as he climbs into bed. Then he's lying next to her, drawing her against him and they both groan at the absolute rightness of the moment. "Em," he mumbles against her cheek, "I don't know if slow is gonna be possible."

Chuckling, she lifts her face from the crook of his neck and whispers, "Slow is overrated."

She kisses him then, hot and wild as the need pounds through her. His hands are on her back, cupping her ass, drawing her leg up over his hip while his hardness presses into her belly and his beard chafes at her cheeks. Wanting to feel him between her legs, Emily arches her hips, loving the hiss of his breath as she grinds against him.

Even now, pressed against him from chest to knees, she can't seem to get close enough to satisfy the ache that is burning between her thighs and clutching at her heart. Dragging her mouth from his, she scrapes her teeth along his throat just to feel his cock twitch. Then she's sliding down peppering his chest with warm, wet kisses. She licks a flat brown nipple, then sucks it into her mouth and Dave's hands fist in her hair. When she stops to twirl her tongue around his navel, he moans her name. And when her lips close around the head of his cock he stops breathing.

If she's honest, Emily would admit she had never been fond of this particular activity. Not before Dave. But from the first time she slid her lips around his cock, all that changed. There is something so feminine and powerful and just plain sexy about pleasuring him with her mouth that she honestly loves the way it makes her feel. Even the sounds he makes, the way he strokes her hair and whispers her name, it never fails to turn her on.

She loves the taste of him, salty and sharp on her tongue; the smell of him, earthy and a little musky; the feel of him, hard and silky and hot. Pausing for a moment, she inhales deeply, groaning deep in her throat, before she lowers her head until she can't take him any deeper. Slowly, she begins to move, sucking and licking and scraping her teeth gently over the plump head. Her hand follows her mouth, up and down, squeezing as she moves. Using her nails, she scratches lightly around the base of his cock, feathering her fingers through the crisp hair.

"Emily." His voice is hoarse, needy. "Stop. I can't…" He tugs on her hair. With a wet pop, she lets him slip from her mouth and looks up at him. "C'mere," he murmurs.

She moves up the bed until she's stretched out beside him. "I was thinking this was going to be more about you," he whispers, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Oh, that was all about me." She tugs at his shoulder until he is facing her.

Face to face, chest to chest, arms and legs entwined, he kisses her, sucking her tongue into his mouth. His hands are on her breasts, his fingers rolling her nipples into hard peaks. She can't get enough of him, pressing closer, hooking a leg over his hip. Gliding her hands over the smooth muscles of his back and ass, she delights in the feel of smooth skin warm under her palms. But it's not enough. Not nearly enough.

Then somehow, someway he's between her thighs and with a press of his hips he's inside her. Even though time doesn't stop, Emily closes her eyes and wishes that it would because this moment is perfect. The first stretch of her muscles around him, the swell of emotion in her chest, both filling her up until there isn't room for anything except her love for this man. Tears burn her throat and her eyes as she pulls him closer and kisses him with a fierceness that surprises them both.

Dave lifts his head. "What is it? You okay?"

Shaking her head, a soft smile tilting the corners of her mouth, she strokes her hand over his cheek. "Nothing's wrong. Just love me."

"I do." He brushes his lips over hers. "So much."

She's moving with him now, her hips rocking up to meet his. And time slows and stretches until she feels like she's underwater. Every touch, every kiss seems to last forever. The pleasure building and building until she's sure she won't last another second, and Dave, reading her body like only he can, backs off, soothing her before pushing her forward again.

When she comes, it's more than just a physical release. Something inside her, something that has been lonely and scared for far too long, gives way. She's lighter somehow, free. For the first time in her life, she's not afraid of the emotions that are flooding through her. She welcomes them, and the tears that were only threatening before now leak from her eyes, leaving silvery tracks on her skin.

Dave's strokes are short and erratic and she knows he's close, so she tightens her thighs around his hips and concentrates on the way he feels, the way he sounds. As he spills inside her Emily memorizes every single second; the scratch of his beard against the crook of her neck, the quiet 'ahhhhhhh' as his back arches and he buries himself inside her, the way his heart thunders and his breath rasps, the way his body seems to melt bonelessly against hers.

The giggle starts somewhere deep inside her and she can't control it. Soon she's laughing and crying and clutching at Dave as he tries to roll away.

"I must be crushing you," he says, looking down at her with a confused smile on his face.

"No." Emily tightens her arms and legs around him, holding him in place. She wants to feel him against her, inside her, for as long as possible. She wants everything she's feeling to seep through her skin and into him. "Stay right here. Please."

And so he does. Until their breathing has slowed and his heart is calm and steady against her breasts. He stays until he softens and finally slips away.

Lying beside her, he draws her into his side. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Emily grins against him. "Actually, I'm better than fine." She hesitates then, old habits clogging her throat. Pushing up on an elbow, she looks down at him; at his messy hair and sparkling eyes and her heart swells. "I love you." It wasn't as hard as she thought it would be, so she says it one more time. "I really love you."

Once again he turns to face her. With a single finger he traces along her eyebrows, her nose, her lips, the line of her jaw. His eyes are so filled with love that for a second Emily can't breathe. "Good," he whispers. "Because I really love you, too."

Then his mouth covers hers and everything else just fades away.


End file.
